


On Board

by meetmeatthecoda



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lizzington - Freeform, One-Shot, Post Coma, Romance, also a happy ending :), angst and ocean metaphors abound!, based on a song of the same title, no agnes, strong t rating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25199050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meetmeatthecoda/pseuds/meetmeatthecoda
Summary: She stands motionless at the helm now, looking past all the other moored boats and out to the open ocean, feeling the deck sway and heave beneath her feet. Everything is loaded below, all the provisions she’ll need for an extended trip, but something is keeping her feet fixed to this spot on the deck. Liz closes her eyes, letting the salty ocean breeze kiss her cheeks and ruffle her hair, puzzling over that inexplicable something that keeps her ashore, an insistent tugging at her center, an odd –"Going somewhere?"Based on & inspired by the song "On Board" by Alana Henderson & Joshua Burnside. After Liz wakes from her coma, she feels set adrift and decides to sail away on Tom's boat, leaving Red behind... But not before saying goodbye. Red attempts to convince her to stay. No Agnes. Lizzington. One-shot. Strong T rating. Written for james-baeder on tumblr, who introduced me to the song.
Relationships: Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington
Comments: 14
Kudos: 83





	On Board

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gregwillray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gregwillray/gifts).



> This fic is inspired by and based on the song "On Board" by Alana Henderson and Joshua Burnside. I highly recommend listening to it before you read this. It's a beautiful song. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=arAt0VvGIN4&list=WL&index=24&t=0s)

The dock is deserted and quiet, but for the pleasant sounds of the sea. Gulls caw and chatter in the early morning sky, soaring above the ocean with visible joy, while the water laps up toward the wooden pier. It splashes gently at the side of Tom’s boat, rocking it lightly back and forth where it is tied securely to the dock.

But it won’t be tied here for much longer. And it’s not Tom’s boat anymore. It’s Liz’s.

And she’s decided to sail away.

She stands motionless at the helm now, looking past all the other moored boats and out to the open ocean, feeling the deck sway and heave beneath her feet. Everything is loaded below, all the provisions she’ll need for an extended trip, but something is keeping her feet fixed to this spot on the deck. Liz closes her eyes, letting the salty ocean breeze kiss her cheeks and ruffle her hair, puzzling over that inexplicable something that keeps her ashore, an insistent tugging at her center, an odd –

“Going somewhere?”

Liz’s heart skips a beat. Of course. She opens her eyes to squint against the early morning rays of the sun.

Red.

She slowly turns to see him standing on the dock, eyebrows raised and regarding her with a pleasant expression, but Liz knows better than anyone that he is anything but calm.

He’s holding his body stiffly, his shoulders tense and high as he taps his hat anxiously against his thigh, the brim gripped in one white-knuckled fist. He’s lacking a tie and a vest, standing there in slacks and a dark dress shirt that appears slightly wrinkled, looking for all the world like he dressed in a hurry.

And Liz supposes he did.

After all, he wasn’t wearing anything when she left him this morning.

The sun hadn’t yet risen when she slipped from between the sheets, away from his comforting warmth, with bitter regret tainting her mouth. She’d dressed silently and slipped out of his Bethesda apartment with all haste, choking on her guilt as she went.

(And the compulsion to return to bed with him was almost too much for her, visions and memories from last night making her jaw clench as she tried to focus on donning her own wrinkled clothes, all the while desperate to return to him.)

She’d come to him last night, her plan fully formed, with only one thing left to do.

Say goodbye.

And she did it in the way she’s always wanted to, the one line in the sand they’d never quite managed to blow away, but that is now completely obliterated, utterly forgotten in between his satin sheets.

When he answered the door, looking at her curiously, wondering what was bringing her to him at the late hour, she had just stared, speechless and desperate, nervous and sure, before she stepped forward and took the biggest chance of their lives.

(And if he rejected her, the thought of it chilling the very marrow of her bones, then well, she’s leaving anyway.)

The sudden pressure of her mouth on his had smothered his surprised grunt, the force of her urgency propelling him a few steps backward into the apartment. Through the electric bliss of his soft lips finally touching hers, Liz had managed to kick the door shut behind her, and the dull slam was enough to shock Red into pulling back from her with a gasp, leaving her cold and afraid to look into his eyes.

“Lizzie?” he’d gasped. “What—”

“Red,” she’d breathed against his mouth, pressing up against him, desperate. “Tell me you don’t want this too and I’ll walk away. But if you do…Well, I think it’s time we stopped torturing ourselves, don’t you?”

Red had stared at her, wide-eyed and swollen mouth agape, and she had waited, frozen, anticipating the blow of rejection, dreading the gentle removal of her hands from his shirt, fully expecting to be turned around and sent on her way –

But he’d lunged back toward her with a ragged groan, capturing her lips with a relief she could feel practically singing through her veins.

(And she could have _cried_ , she was so relieved, because he _still wanted her_ –)

They had ended up in his bedroom, of course, and he had asked if she was sure before he took off her clothes. And he asked her again before he gently laid her down and explored her entire body with single-minded devotion. And again before he finally slid inside her, making her gasp and see stars and pull him close.

(And the fact that he had asked so many times, despite all her breathless words of encouragement, her very vocal pleading, and eventually her wordless kisses of assent, assured her more than anything that _this was right_.)

And he had been incredible, taking her to new heights of emotion-filled pleasure, completely worshipping her before collapsing at her side and gathering her to him.

“Lizzie,” he’d breathed, reverent and adoring, but she’d gently shushed him with a delicate finger laid across his lips.

“Let’s save the talking for morning.”

And he’d simply nodded, the trust and love clear in his sleepy eyes, pressed a soft kiss to the finger still resting on his lips, and tugged her close in preparation for sleep. She’d gone willingly, of course, let herself be tucked under his chin, but all the while fought back tears because she knew. She knew they wouldn’t be talking in the morning.

Because she’d be gone by then.

Liz blinks a few times, forcing herself back to the present, here at the dock, trying to ignore her body tingling and her throat tightening at the vivid memories from last night, to see Red still standing on the pier looking at her.

And waiting for an answer.

She clears her throat wetly.

“Yes,” she finally answers him, the single syllable making her chest ache because oh, _she doesn’t want to leave him_. “I’m going away.”

She can see his jaw tighten from here, watches him chew on his cheek as his eye twitches rapidly before he can stifle it, his familiar facial tics giving away how much her confirmation just upset him.

“Anywhere I’ve heard of?” he asks in a would-be light tone, clearly trying hard for a joking manner, but instead coming across sounding choked and scared.

(And he’s slowly killing her, standing there looking like a kicked puppy, and after the sheer reverence and bliss that shone out from his face last night, seeing his betrayed and injured face is like being stabbed with a rusty knife over and over again because she _doesn’t want to hurt him_ –

But she’s so very good at it.)

“Red,” Liz murmurs, her voice quiet and sad. “I can’t stay here…”

(She almost lets the words ‘with you’ slip past her lips but stops herself just in time, although the twitch of Red’s mouth tells her he read between the lines of what she didn’t say.)

“Why not, Lizzie?” he asks in a tone that’s so painfully patient that she suddenly cracks.

“Because I’m _broken_!” she explodes, throwing her hands in the air helplessly. “Red, I _shot_ my father and drove my mother into the _ocean_! My husband was an _imposter_ and _five_ _years_ of my life were a complete _lie_! And then I _remarried_ him and was _widowed_ all in the same year! And, to top it all off, I was in a _coma_ for _ten months_!”

Red watches her silently throughout her tirade, a grim expression on his face as he listens to the dismal summary of her life. In that instant, she feels inside her all the unrest of the waves underneath her feet, feeling as wild and out of control as the hurricane that her life has been for the past five years.

(And she knows this storm has been brewing in her mind for a long time, desperate to be released, driving her outwards toward the sea just to feel _free_.)

But Liz peters out now, all her bottled up energy leaving her in a rush like the changing winds of a tempest, leaving only an intense sadness in its wake.

“Red,” she says on a quiet exhale, feeling completely drained, tears welling up in her eyes, making him turn blurry where he still stands motionless on the pier.

“You know I haven’t been the same since I woke up.”

Her eyes overflow with tears that slip down her cheeks, finally clearing her vision long enough to see Red’s expression, and he’s looking at her with such pity and sadness that she almost feels driven into his arms once again out of pure instinct.

But no, _no_ , she can’t burden him with her problems any longer, she’s been doing that since she was _born_ and it just _isn’t fair_ –

“Lizzie,” he murmurs, and she almost can’t handle the sound of his voice, warm and gentle and persuading. “I know how difficult it’s been, sweetheart, but remember how much you’ve accomplished, how much you’ve _overcome_ –”

But Liz just shakes her head, letting out a rueful little laugh.

“Anything I’ve ‘accomplished’ is only thanks to you, Red,” she says helplessly. “And it’s not fair of me to take advantage of you anymore. That’s why I need to go.”

Red works his jaw, his eyes growing more dead by the second.

“Why did you come to me last night?”

(And she can hear the tentative hurt in his voice and never in a million years did she think he would assume she _used him_ –)

“Because I’m selfish!” Liz cries unhappily. “I didn’t lie to you last night, Red. I wanted you so badly, I couldn’t leave without showing you how I really feel, and I don’t regret it at all, Red.”

“Then _why_ –” he begins, a little frustration and anger seeping into his tone.

“That was me saying _goodbye_ , Red,” Liz tells him sadly. “And I knew I couldn’t face you this morning, looking at me like you are _right now_ –” she breaks off with a tiny sob, tears streaming “—like I’m your _biggest_ _disappointment_.”

Red is shaking his head now, fervent and upset, opening his mouth to object.

“I’m a coward, Red,” she continues forcefully. “So, I left before you woke up.”

“Lizzie, no,” he murmurs, pleading, both with his voice and his eyes, earnest and green. “Don’t do this.”

“ _I can’t stay here_ , _Red_ ,” she repeats, like a mantra, now more for herself than for him.

“Then let me come with you,” he blurts suddenly. “We’ll sail away together, you and I, and see the world. Just you and I, Lizzie, we can do it.”

But she’s shaking her head, repeatedly, desperately, tears falling faster than ever because he’s conjuring images in her head, images that are too tantalizing and beautiful –

( – the two of them sailing together under the gleaming sun, his arms wrapped around her as the breeze blows – carefree and laughing as they swim lazily in the ocean – laying on the deck, cradled in his arms as they watch the sun set over the water – stargazing in the comforting darkness of the night, being gently rocked to sleep by the movement of the ocean – retreating down below after a full day together to make love in their ocean retreat, their oasis, _their safe haven_ –)

“Oh, Red,” Liz sobs, as tempted as she’s ever been, _so close_ to saying yes, before her Tom-shaped sense of worthlessness slings back and that empty darkness returns to her insides.

“You should get on board with someone…someone whose course is steadier than mine,” she whispers, broken, pleading, and desperate because she _just_ _wants to save him_ –

“Lizzie,” he whispers, so quiet she almost can’t hear, with a rueful little smile.

“Sweetheart…I’ve weathered worse storms than yours.”

And the helpless little shrug he gives, the self-deprecating smile on his face, coupled with the _biggest understatement_ _of all time_ , how he’s always trivializing his suffering for her – it’s all combining as she lets out a ragged sob and launches herself off the boat and into his arms.

(Because how can she leave him, the one man who has been with her through _everything_ , out of no obligation or ulterior motive, simply because _he loves her?_

How can she do anything but hold on tight and never let go?)

So, that’s exactly what she does, squeezing him tightly, her apology leaking from her limbs, and she feels him wrap his arms around her in return, letting out a huge sigh of relief at the feel of her back with him.

(And she feels as though he’s putting her back together again.)

After a long moment, Liz pulls back to look at him, her face still wet with tears, and cups his face.

“After everything…” she sniffles, in awe and needing confirmation, one last time. “After everything…you can still care about me?”

“Oh, Lizzie,” he murmurs, his eyes shining. “All I’ve ever done is love you.”

He strokes her cheek with tender fingers.

“To the bottom of the sea.”

When she pushes forward to kiss him, with an urgency reminiscent of last night, it feels like the clouds clearing after a storm, the rays of sun lighting up the surface of the ocean with countless sparkles and glimmers, all emanating from the two of them and their love.

When she pulls back, it’s only to breathe in the clean, salty air and touch her forehead to his.

“So, you’re coming with me?”

Red presses one more kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“If you’ll have me.”

(And the fact that there’s any hesitance or uncertainty in his statement at all is simply laughable, and she endeavors then and there to spend the entirety of their voyage kissing away the very notion.)

Liz rubs her nose against his and smiles.

“Of course.”

(And the joy shining forth from his eyes is all she needs.)

“So, where are we headed?”

Red wraps his arms around her waist, anchoring her to him, and raises his eyebrows in playful disbelief.

“ _I_ get to decide?”

Liz rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“Well, you are the more experienced of the two of us.”

“Excuse me, are you saying I know better?”

Liz raises one eyebrow at him skeptically.

“You were in the navy, weren’t you?”

He smirks.

“I was.”

Liz decides to poke a little fun.

“On the other hand,” she says, her brow creasing in fake worry. “Do you still remember how to sail a boat? It has been an awfully long time, after all.”

The sight of his mouth falling open in offended shock is delightful, so she keeps the gag going just a little longer.

“I mean, perhaps in your _old age_ , you’ve forgotten how to –”

“ _You_ —”

And he yanks her to him to attack her neck, nibbling and biting with a fierce growl, as the sound of her laughter echoes off the water around them.

(And she thinks she might simply overflow with happiness.)

Liz pushes lightly at Red’s chest to make him stop, still smiling so much it feels like her face is splitting in two.

“Well?” she prods gently, looking adoringly up at his face.

“Hmm,” Red hums, catching a lock of her hair blowing wildly across her face in the breeze to rub it softly between his thumb and forefinger. “How about we just follow the north star and see where it takes us?”

Liz looks at him in surprise.

“Raymond Reddington, without a plan?”

He chuckles lightly.

“Well,” he reasons, titling his head in thought. “It’s served me well thus far.”

He looks at her meaningfully.

(And how could she forget another boat, another voyage across the ocean with him, the one that changed them forever.)

_“My Polaris…”_

He gently takes her face in his hands, guiding her forward to press a final soft, loving kiss to her lips.

(And the raging waters inside her calm for good.)

They share a tender smile as the kiss ends before Liz reluctantly detaches herself from him, standing back to regard him for a short moment before speaking the only two words left to be said between them.

“Let’s go.”

And she takes his hand and pulls him on board.


End file.
